 | The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith |  |
They say that he died sweetly, and they talk
About this having risen again, and spoken
To certain of his followers, and the priests
Would have these stories silenced by the law.
Nay, let the poor fools have such comfort as
They find in these fond dreams. I know he's dead.
My fellows never leave their work half done;
Their lives should answer for it, if they did.
No doubt, he's dead; a spear-thrust in the heart
Made sure of that; he'll trouble us no more.
'Tis a strange thirst these priests have still for blood;
If they had shed as much of it as we,
They'd hate the smell of it. And yet I'd give
Something to learn if Annas' blood is like
What flows in other men. I hear them shouting
“The Lord is risen indeed!” I wish he were;
'Twould take a load off me to see Him living,
And what I did, undone. But that's past hope;
The dead are dead for ever.
About this having risen again, and spoken
To certain of his followers, and the priests
Would have these stories silenced by the law.
Nay, let the poor fools have such comfort as
They find in these fond dreams. I know he's dead.
My fellows never leave their work half done;
Their lives should answer for it, if they did.
No doubt, he's dead; a spear-thrust in the heart
Made sure of that; he'll trouble us no more.
'Tis a strange thirst these priests have still for blood;
If they had shed as much of it as we,
They'd hate the smell of it. And yet I'd give
Something to learn if Annas' blood is like
What flows in other men. I hear them shouting
“The Lord is risen indeed!” I wish he were;
'Twould take a load off me to see Him living,
And what I did, undone. But that's past hope;
The dead are dead for ever.
Speak well of me,
My Lucius, to Sylvia and Nerissa,
What time you sup in the old tavern by
The Pincian, and the wine and mirth are free.
Cæsar will hardly trouble himself about
This prophet's death, since it has pleased the Jews,
But you might say a good word for him truly,
And strike that old rogue, Annas. A good deed!
Oh that I could but squeeze from these hard Jews
Some certain talents, and get back to Rome!
But they have sucked me rather, leaving only
The dry rind o' the orange. Fare thee well!
My Lucius, to Sylvia and Nerissa,
What time you sup in the old tavern by
The Pincian, and the wine and mirth are free.
Cæsar will hardly trouble himself about
This prophet's death, since it has pleased the Jews,
But you might say a good word for him truly,
And strike that old rogue, Annas. A good deed!
Oh that I could but squeeze from these hard Jews
Some certain talents, and get back to Rome!
But they have sucked me rather, leaving only
The dry rind o' the orange. Fare thee well!
| The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith | |